Through a clear plastic tube, a stream of poisonous goo dripped from my side.
When they pushed their scalpel against my flesh, it opened the barrier between life and death.
It created a spirit bound wound open to the world of the living.
The sharpened knife created a cavernous cave, a hole filled with the black flies of oblivion. They swarmed and spat, eating my breathing flesh with their vomit.
From this wound, my ego soaked doctors ate the blood caked flies from my lung, carving out and consuming the festering rat king from my chest.
Slowly I opened my eyes from this eternally dark dream. With tears streaming down my face I stared on.
I stared on at an amorphous blob as it plopped out from the darkness. Like smoldering tar it dripped from the ceiling. Its skin was slick and rigid and hard to the touch.
Spindles reminiscent to a spider’s arms covered its slug like face. Dark tentacles poured from its mouth, writhing and lashing.
It looked on at me with beady black eyes. Its leeching gaze consumed me, latching hooks into my flesh, it pulled me deeply into it’s bottomless pit of despair.
It hovered. It taunted me with whispers and growls. Its wings floated, swimming in the air like water.
The tips of its tendrils slid across my skin, reaching into the slice in my side. It felt like slippery sand paper driving a hot iron between my ribs. It sat on my chest, pressing into my sternum. Its weight made each breath a struggle for air.
It pressed its face against mine, holding me in place. Steadily and slowly it forced itself into my mouth. I could feel its anger, its madness, its frenzied hatred… become mine.